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Chapter Text

The wind rushed in his ears as he twisted and turned and dodged and ducked. It was giving him no time to think! No time to even draw his bow!

His beak pressed painfully against itself as the assault continued.

Its mask looked like it held eight eyes. Seven yellow, and one the same as the crawling machines that terrorized the surface. The same things that tried to shoot him down on his way to his Divine Beast. When he had arrived at Rito Village, Medoh’s usual blinding blue curled into an obnoxious pink. Her gears turned the wrong way, the creaking unfamiliar to his automaton.

In all of her splendor, Divine Beast Vah Medoh had been taken over by the wretched hands of the all-consuming Calamity Ganon.

But, damnit, he was a champion! He was chosen by the very King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule himself! All of that time in the flight range, trying to prove to everyone that he wasn’t just a sad orphan! That he wasn’t complacent! Everything he did to earn this Hyrulian blue sash! Everything he did to earn Vah Medoh! It couldn’t all be for nothing, right?

So why? Why couldn’t he make a dent in this cursed blight? Why did none of his bombs wound the pulsing black flesh? Why did its pink blood refuse to leak from the punctures of his arrows? And why did his dread spike every time a beam flew his way?

He was the fastest Rito of them all, that’s why he was a champion. Because no Rito, not even any of the ancient sages, could top his speed or ability with the bow. He was different! He couldn’t be like those before him.

He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t be forgotten! He wouldn’t be like Medli, who is only known by word of mouth! He wouldn’t be erased from the history books of the world! He’d have his own page in the future that shit on everyone who doubted him!

“Shit!” A blinding beam shot out of its eye and Revali took a sharp turn. Right under him, was the terminal. The heads on the four Divine Beasts rising from it. It was supposed to be blue, but just like all of Vah Medoh’s veins, it was the Calamity’s pink blood. It coarsed through every bit of her. Her wings followed its direction. But in the inside of the erected heads of the mechanical beasts was a button. A button that called for help.

He winced even at the thought. Revali, the only hero of Hyrule that called for help when facing the threat he was told that he would face. The pathetic rito that had to beg for help in Hyrule’s biggest time of need.

He was bombarded by beams from the device that replaced the blight’s right hand. He dived, just narrowly missing the terminal. He curved around it and the missiles careened into a pillar. It crumbled into pieces, falling to Vah Medoh’s back like a landslide on a road.

“Stop destroying her!” The rage that bubbled in his chest died down immediately, as he finally landed so that the terminal shielded him from the assault blasts.

That was when he heard it. Three short beeps, three long, and another three shorts. A call for help.

And the jingle it played had the light undertone of the flute. The instrument of the Zora. Mipha needed help too.

He looked off into the distance, though the clouds Medoh flew through covered his sight. For a second, he pictured her face, her red scales glistening in the sunset. Then he saw Daruk, the orange rock he called his skin caked with dirt after he rolled on the ground for so long. Then Urbosa, her clothes so full of color along with her bright green eyes and her ruby hair. Then the princess, ever the instructed, never the instructor.

Then, of course, there was Link. If not for the guardians or the Divine Beasts, would he have had to face this horror alone? Would he have had to turn his sword to this demon with shaky legs? Would his blue eyes be able to face this death?

Another blast on the terminal.

He was going to find Link after this and smuggle a noble pursuit to drink in his face.

Yeah, Revali thought, a smile gracing his face, I’m gonna find him after this.

The beeping from the terminal stopped just as Revali caught his breath. His head snapped to the button in the middle of the terminal. “What?” Then he cursed his worry. Surely Urbosa or Daruk answered her call!

Then another signal started, this one with an undertone of drums. The instrument of the gorons. Daruk was calling for aid.

But Daruk was the closest to Mipha. How could he still be in his Divine Beast if she just finished calling for help only seconds ago.

Damnit Revali! Focus on your fight! He tried to pull himself out of his spiral. And he took back to the sky. The clouds were dense and he couldn’t see too far off of Vah Medoh’s side. They were in Hebra, the peak hundreds of feet under him definitely.

He twisted in the air, his heart pounding in his ears. His feathers tingled and he could very intensely feel the rush of the wind against them.

Then, finally, an opening. The blight curled itself into a ball of blue light, the same blue that Medoh’s circuits used to shine, and moved across the back of the bird automaton.

The terminal’s beeping hadn’t ceased, the methodical beat of the impending doom of his college, his friend, twisted inside Revali’s head. As he was finally able to cock his bomb-tipped arrow, he thought of the smile of the goron champion, the way his voice always carried, the way he’d lift children like they were nothing, and the way he called Revali his brother and slammed those rocky hands onto his back, claiming it was just a nudge.

And he began to regret those snarky comments, or when he bragged and flaunted.

What if he never got to apologize to Daruk? What if he could never apologize to Mipha? What of Urbosa? Of the Princess? Of Link? What of him?

He let his arrow fly, aiming for the circular blue eye. And just like always, it hit its mark.

The blight screeched, slumping over. “Yes!” Relief rushed over Revali as he wasted not even a second to knock and shoot six more arrows, shooting three at a time.

And then it rose again, its head turning fully around. And, with another screech, a tornado roared only feet in front of him.

He flapped his wings quickly, but not quick enough. The gale of swirling wind caught one of his wings as he was escaping and threw him across Medoh’s back.

He lurched down in a dive from the wind and fell on one of his wings. He let out a cry as he rolled off of the injured arm.

When he opened his eyes, he only had a second to leap out of the way of a wave of blue missiles.

That led him to the terminal.

His wing was messed up, there was no way that he could fly in this condition. That meant he couldn’t fire arrows either. And that only meant one other thing.

He needed help. He needed help or he would die here. Alone, inside the clouds.

And the terminal went silent again, the drum beat dying with Daruk’s signal. A cry broke from Revali’s throat as he slammed down on the button in the middle of the terminal.

The light clicks of the blight’s blue eye grew quicker as a red dot pointed at Revali’s chest.

“NO!” He pressed down on the button again and again, begging someone to just come already.

He leaped for cover behind the terminal as the explosion shook him. The blight turned into another blue orb and teleported right in front of him.

The melody of three beeps came back, this time with an undertone of an accordion. The sound of home. The sound of the small rito children flying up the spiraling flights of stairs and hitting whoever was in their way because they didn’t know how to dodge yet. The sound of frying fish in the afternoon and laughing over getting popped by hot oil. The sound of wind blowing through your feathers at the high perch of Rito Village.

His home was calling for him from so many miles away and he couldn’t reach for it. The place that raised him cried his name, begging him to return home like a mother would to her son that was leaving for war.

Except her son would never come back and he knew it. And on the battlefield, he’d cry for his mother right before he took his last breaths.

He ran for the side. He ran for his home. He ran for his calling mother. But the bullet got him at the edge. It sliced at his side, his midnight blue feathers flying with his flesh.

And he tipped over the side. And he fell, and fell, and fell.

The clouds didn’t disperse as he plummeted. He could be ten feet away from the ground or hundreds and he wouldn’t know.

His wings flailed on their own, trying to catch the draft he always created in moments like this.

His gale that was like no other. His gale that was supposed to save him. His gale that failed him and his valor.

And he fell, and fell, and fell, his tears speeding up his face and freezing in the air surrounding him.

Revali saw the piercing blue eyes of the boy he called his rival in his mind. He looked down on Revali, asking him if this was all the courage he could muster. Asking him if this would be how his life ended.

Like a shark with cut fins, dying in the same place that it was supposed to be the lord of.

And as Revali closed his eyes, he said yes. He saw the red scales of the zora princess smiling at the goron champion, her fang-like teeth unfitting of her small stature. He saw Daruk next to her, his grey hair waving as he shook his head.

Daruk caught sight of Revali and his smile faded. Mipha looked too and her head hung low.

Daruk stepped forward and held his hand out. When Revali hesitated, he nodded towards his hand. He was asking Revali to trust him.

Revali looked away and reached his hand out to Daruk.

“MASTER!”

Chapter Text

“Master Revali, grand rito warrior, it is time for you to join us once more,” A soft voice echoed within his mind.

Revali? Was that him? Was that his name?

“It’s time to wake up Master Revali. Hyrule prays for your aid.” It spoke again.

He cracked his eyes open and was blasted by blue light. He gave his eyes a second to adjust, but when they did he sat up.

The walls pulsed with blue lights, maybe even a liquid, that seemed to move within the walls. They twisted and turned into waves or spirals. He traced one of the images with his finger. His feather? His wing. It was a wing.

“The device on the pedestal is called a Sheikah Slate.” He turned towards where he was sure the voice was coming from. But there was no one else in the room with him.

Where the voice had come from, there was indeed a pedestal. It pulsed with both light blue and orange light. And in the middle was a rectangular device, an eye symbol engraved into the material.

He reached out to it and his shoulder spiked with pain. He sucked in a breath and yanked his hand away. He used one wing to hold his aching shoulder.

“Why?” His voice squeaked, torn from not being used. “Hurt me?”

“It’s an injury you sustained many years ago, not the tablet. Please, you need the Slate to leave the Shrine you are currently housed in.”

He nodded and reached out again, this time with his uninjured arm. It didn’t spike like before. He gripped the handle and the screen flashed blue.

The ground rumbled and the door of stone opened, showing him a more open room with walls decorated the same way the room he woke up in was. There were two chests and a few wooden crates.

He fiddled with the chests until they opened. One had pants that clearly couldn’t fit him, the other had a torn shirt that was also obviously not going to fit him. He closed the chests with a sigh.

He saw another pedestal, this one didn’t have a Slate inside of it. But it had the same eye symbol as the tablet.

He pressed the tablet against the surface and a jingle played as the color on the pedestal blinked. The sound was one that almost sounded like chirping birds. What a soft sound, yet his heart bled for it.

He tried to shake the feeling off as the ground rumbled once more. Peaking through the stone doors was sunlight. Its ray was blinding, making him use his wing as cover. This time, it didn’t spike with that sudden pain that it did before.

When his eyes had finally adjusted, he let his wing fall to his side. Outside the blue veined walls, was a blue sky, its clouds moving lazily across the wide expanse.

He took another step, then another until he was blocked by rubble that clearly used to be steps. It was a vertical surface, one too high for him to just jump.

He looked at his wings, and he trusted them. He batted his wings against the ground and wind curled around him. It shot him up and his head hit the ceiling. He yelped, falling back to the ground beneath him. He landed in the puddle at his feet and groaned, rubbing the dull pain on the top of his head.

A light giggle echoed in his head. He cursed at the voice’s mockery. “That was not funny.”

“No, it was quite delightful!”

“Get out of my head.” The voice’s chuckle subsided and he tried again. This time, he didn’t put nearly as much force into the flap of his wing. It propelled him upward, very close to the ceiling, but not enough to assault his head once more. His talons touched the withering steps as he finally cleared the vertical slope. He let out a sigh of relief.

There was so much green outside, like a wave of algae had hit this land. Trees sprawled across the ground as far as he could see. And to his left, a hulking structure stood. Though its walls had caved and collapsed on its sides, most of it still stood tall, reaching for the heavens like a forsaken angel.

The wind caressed his feathers, ruffling them like a brother would do to his sibling’s hair. He could help the giggle that escaped him. The wind carried it to the lost cathedral, dispersing it like confetti and calling it hope.

Pulsing pink pillars caught his eyes from a distance as he stood on the cliff side. Giant columns extended upward, the clouds hiding their tops. In the middle of them all, was a crumbling monument. A building that was giant, even from as far as he stood, which felt like he was across the world.

Something stirred from within him. Something that poured dread into his stomach and churned it together with his ever growing confusion. The beat of his heart grew almost deafening to his ears.

He looked away from the offending structure, but the choking feeling hadn’t left him. It just made his chest feel tighter. It made his eyes water. “What is wrong with me?”

“I will explain everything soon. But first, I’ve put a pin on the Sheikah Slate’s map.” The voice was soft again, like when he woke up. What had happened to its humor?

He brought the slate up, its eye icon flashing, before a blank space appeared. A yellow dot blinked on the page while a blue arrow pointed to it.

The blue was the same midnight blue that decorated him. So it had to have been his location, right?

He turned to his left, hoping that the visage of the fallen castle would stop torturing him as it had. But the sinking feeling never stopped. Now even as a hooded man retreated back to his fire, presumably right after staring.

His head cocked to the side as he watched the man sit back down. His beard was a light gray, almost matching the color of the clouds.

His feet moved on their own, his claws clicking against the mossy stone steps under them. “Excuse me?” He waved his wing and winced at the pain, dropping it back to his side.

The man nodded his head. And then he tossed a bright red apple next to his fire. Flames engulfed the apple as it began to brown.

He flapped his wing once, sending a burst of wind down on the apple. I stead, the browned apple rolled down the remaining steps, taking the blackened wood with it.

He watched the wood tumble with wide eyes. He then turned back to the man, his dark blue hood fallen from his head. It wasn’t just his beard that was long and grey with age, his hair cascaded down his back, disappearing into the cover of his cloak. “I didn’t…uh.” The man gave him a blank look, clearly not surprised. He looked away as the old man pulled his hood back over his head.

His chest stirred once more, but it wasn’t that lasting anger and confusion from the torn castle, it made him want to jump in the nearby pond. Right in the center of the ring of lily pads.

The slate in his hand vibrated, reminding him of his current objective. “I’m just gonna go now,” he said, sliding away with puffed feathers.

He glanced down at the map, the yellow dot still pulsing. The midnight blue arrow moved closer to it as he continued forward, stepping over the discarded blackened logs.

When he looked up, a hog bolted, one of its tusks broken. Behind it, a red, naked thing chased it. The red thing had pig features itself. Tusks, floppy ears, and likely the same stench, but it ran on two legs, holding up a club and swinging down at the air.

Behind that red thing, more emerged from the blanket of trees. One carrying a really long stick with a tipped edge, like a stake, and the other with a curved stick with a string holding the curve.

He wanted that curved stick. His heart twisted for it, like it was something he needed. He could imagine himself shooting it with his talons stretching the string so tight it could propel another stick and stab a boulder.

Then he charged into the air, this time not nearly as fast as the first time in front of the shattered staircase. He angled his body forward, using his wings to shoot him toward the red bipedal pig monster.

He landed on top of it, his talons digging into his prey. It screamed, its sound gurgled. The other monsters chasing the hog turned around as he propelled himself back into the air.

The wind welcomed him, brushing through his feathers as if welcoming him to a dance.

Where his claws had punctured its skin, black and pink ooze poured. His breath caught in his throat, his head pounding and begging him to go.

He squeezed the bow within his grasp as his beak pressed painfully against itself.

On the injured monster’s back, was a quiver, its arrows halfway out of its hold. But as the monster stood up, its skin welding itself back together and stopping the blood flow, it shoved the scattered arrows back into the quiver as it seemed to scream at him.

He couldn’t fight without those arrows. He should’ve thought about this before stealing the damned bow. If he had, the offending bipedal hog would’ve been reduced to a corpse.

A “tsk” clicked from his beak, a sneer morphing his face into one of disgust.

He dropped the bow to the ground under him. All of the monster’s eyes followed the falling curved stick, and the former owner ran for it.

He swooped down, closing his talons on the shoulders of the ruby skinned pig. And he went back up, higher and higher until the stone steps looked like one big grey floor, the individual stone melting together.

It kicked and thrashed, and he let it go. Its gurgled screams followed it until it hit the ground, pink splattered against the stone like thrown paint.

He blinked frantically, watching as the dropped monster exploded into dark purple dust. “Well…” he muttered to himself as the remaining monsters waved their weapons up at him.

His wing vibrated again, as if the slate itself was impatient. He checked the screen just to see that he was right next to the blinking yellow objective.

The midnight blue arrow faced away from the dot. So he turned around and the arrow faced the golden light.

But farther, much farther, a mountain stood higher than the rest, its rock formed to create spikes that pierced the sky. Sliding down its sides was an orange that was bright like the sun.

Closer was a split mountain, the formation cut as if a goddess stole it. Something stood on the highest point of the right peak, its silhouette obvious against the sun’s beams.

But the golden dot, it was the rock. A big, hulking rock. All of this beauty in this land, but the most important thing was a big rock.

He looked back down at the monsters, whose shouting sounded like wheezing, and groaned. He turned his back and landed at the front of the tumbled rocks.

Though inside, yellow caught his eye. He walked into the opening of the rocks and saw that there was a pedestal there. One with the same eye symbol like the chamber he woke up in. The yellow flickered like the light inside was broken.

He repeated his action from before albeit begrudgingly, the feel of the curved stick haunting his feet.

The light jingle played once more before the slate buzzed again. Looking at the screen, he read “WATCH OUT FOR FALLING ROCKS!”

The ground beneath his feet began to move, the boulders encasing it cracking and shifting. He pushed himself close to the pedestal as pebbles began to break off from the surrounding rock.

Then the ground around the cave began to sink. The torn cathedral in the distance became small along with the surrounding decaying buildings. The red hog monsters turned into small dots against the endless green of the forest. Snowy mountains made themselves known in the distance, their white peaks shining against the sun’s glow.

His legs gave out from under him, dropping him to his knees. He immediately wrapped his wings around the pedestal as the rest of the boulders broke off from the platform he braced himself on.

When the rumbling had finally stopped, he stayed in his place, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Revali,” the voice chimed in his head.” You must see. Please stand.”

He slowly let go of the pedestal and looked around. First, his eyes caught the pulsing of the pillars around the abandoned castle. They blinked once, then again, then again until the pink didn’t go away. It got brighter, nearly beginning to hurt his eyes as he watched.

“Try to remember,” she spoke once more. At the top of the castle, a golden light shone as if a fragment of the sun itself had fallen. He walked toward the edge of the new tower beneath his claws.

“You have been asleep for the past one hundred years.” With her words, the ground shook once more, causing a groan to come out of him. “The beast…” As if it was hiding behind the crumbled castle, a body of black sprouted up from the ground. Its eyes pierced the sky even brighter than the sun as it roared at the clouds. It then circled the castle. “When the beast regains its strength, this world will face its end.”

The sun fragment at the top of the castle grew impossibly brighter, making him shield his eyes. Though, he could hear the beast roar once more. “Now then, Revali, you must hurry. Find Link and give him your aid.” His feathers puffed, but he didn’t look away. He watched as the billowing smoke of the pink and black beast dissipated into the crumbled castle.

Chapter Text

The castle calmed. No more rumbling or monster or blinding light. It was still once more, like a headstone surviving a thunderstorm.

He blinked away the growing feeling in his chest and turned around.

White peaked mountains rose behind the cave he emerged from. Close to one of the peaks sat something that looked almost like a rock from where he was. Though glowing orange, were designs and runes that clearly set it apart.

He walked to the other end of the tower and looked down. The earlier offending maroon monsters jumped around the base of the tower, making noises that just barely reached his ears.

They were like specks against the green surrounding them.

He hooked the slate to the hem of his shorts and stepped off of the side.

The wind rushed through his feathers, roaring in his ears. His mind buzzed with adrenaline

His wings flew out from his sides and propelled himself upward before allowing himself to fall slower. The second his talons hit the tan rocks of the ground, a shout rang through his ears.

He turned his body to see a man in the sky, gripping an amalgamation of sticks and cloth over his head. The man landed silently next to him, his hood staying firmly in place this time.

“Welcome to the ruins of Old Castle Town,” The man said, the baritone of the man’s voice grovelly. He looked down at him, though the hood obscured his eyes. His lips pressed themselves in a thin line, revealing just how deep the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth could go.

His head tilted curtly, though the nails on his feet scratched at the rock nervously, his feathers suddenly feeling like they prickled at his skin underneath.

The man hummed and shook his head. “You see, you were not who I was expecting.”

“Expecting?” Something curled in his stomach and crawled up his throat, closing around itself. Though, in his mind, the feeling felt so familiar, like the lump in his throat had been there long enough to create a stretch for it to sit. A slot that would allow just enough air to breath, but not enough so that you could ignore it.

The man paused before, “Your wings could carry you far,” he pointing to the tablet strapped to His waistband. “but the runes could take you farther. There will be puzzles that your wind, alone, can not solve.” He pointed forward at the rock looking monument that stood on the other side of a pond. “There are four structures on this plateau. Complete their challenges, and only after that will you be fully equipped to continue your quest into the rest of Hyrule.”

He nodded to the man and took a singular step. The Old Man halted him, placing a large hand on his shoulder. He turned around to meet the man’s eyes, but the man turned his head away. “Be careful.”

He nodded again and started forward.

—

His eyes moved fast, like they were focusing intently on a bee’s movements. Though it was just the fish that swam in the nearby pond.

Its green scales glistened in the sunlight as if begging for his eyes to follow it. He followed it with a sharpness only the rumble of his stomach could enforce.

His mind chanted “arrow” softly between his ears. And, as he hesitantly let his eyes lose his prey, he saw another one of those pig monsters, this time a blue, holding another wooden bow. This one was far closer to the ideal bow his mind envisioned than the other one, though it wasn’t even close to the real thing.

Instead of just being a stick curved only by a string, it also had sharp white bones that jutted out like fingers pointing at the horizon.

Just like the green scales, the polished white bone created a glare from being hit by the sun’s rays.

He took to the skies, the wind greeting him once more as he swept the sky and dug his talons into the bow barer’s shoulder. He swung around the monster’s body with his wings(hands?) and snatched the quiver from the monster’s back.

A horn blew, but he’d already retreated before the monsters could rush him. He fiddled with his new quiver, figuring it best to tie around his waist, and adjusted the Slate.

As his eyes searched for the glistening green of his earlier prey, his feet fidgeted around the wood, his claws never finding the right position. He groaned and lightly cursed the white bones for blocking his grip. He decided, instead, to focus on his hunt.

As his eyes darted about the water, he strung one of the arrows from the quiver on the narrow cord and pulled back. Then, for just a second, it cut back into the light of the sun.

He let it go, the arrow soaring through the air and cutting through the water with a nearly silent plink. He strung another arrow, grumbling again as his talons held the wood uncomfortably.

Raised to the surface, was the green scaled bass he’d wanted. The bass bobbed lightly on the stagnant water. Its eyes wide and empty.

He slung the bow around his chest and dived, his claws clipping the water as they clamped down around the emerald scales.

He settled down on the other side of the large pond, hopping on one foot as to not get dirt(or the surrounding mud) on his food.

He grimaced as he used his…hands to lift it. It swung from side to side so limply it was like paper against the wind.

It didn’t really smell like anything. Well, except like the surrounding stench of algae, mud, and a hint of animal feces, but he’d been smelling that since he opened his eyes.

He closed his eyes and shoved the fish into his mouth. It slid down his throat and he almost gagged it back up, but he kept strong. He felt the weight settle in his abdomen and turned toward the first structure before he could focus too hard on it.

A circle of orange pulsed under his feet as he stepped up to the entrance. A pedestal stood on his right, glowing the same orange that the rest of the structure did.

He unhooked the Slate from his shorts and put the screen on the eye of the pedestal. It responded in seconds, flashing blue. “Slate Recognized,” the screen read. Then, “Travel Gate registered to map.”

It rumbled under his feet, making him jerk in surprise. He groaned but steeled his feet to keep himself balanced as it shook viciously.

When the tremor stopped, he noticed that the front had opened, revealing glittering blue light dancing around a round base. He walked forward, clipping the Slate back to his shorts, and stepped on the platform. It bobbed slightly down, but it’d pulled a startled yelp out of him as his feathers puffed.

When it steadied, he straightened himself and coughed softly into his wing as he looked around the, nearly vacant, area.

Blue shot up the sides of the base he stood on and it started to descend.